Prophesy
by Witch Lisa
Summary: The lioness and the asp must work their way through a prophesy and the life it dooms them to live. HGSS
1. Chapter One

Chapter One:

When Hermione Granger entered the room, she was startled by the look on her Headmaster's face. Albus Dumbledore was smiling a smile that didn't quite reach his expressive eyes.

And she knew she was in trouble.

"Miss Granger, thank you for coming so promptly," said the elderly Headmaster. "I am sorry to have interrupted your Friday night plans, but we have a situation that must be discussed."

He gestured to an empty chair in the center of the room and Head Girl Hermione Granger took a seat. She nervously glanced at the professors seated next to her, Trelawney and McGonagall, and atProfessor Snape, who was hovering near a shelf full of odd contraptions and apparently inspecting the items for dust.

"Am I in trouble?" asked Hermione, with a half smile. "I actually haven't broken any rules lately, so I'm a bit confused as to why I'm here."  
  
An inelegant snort came from the direction of the shelves and Professor Snape turned around, wiping his hand on his robes.  
  
"Miss Granger, the day that you can honestly say that –"he began.

"Severus," said Dumbledore. "That will be enough. I realize you are on edge, however, please do not take it out on Miss Granger."

Snape rolled his eyes and flopped, inelegantly once again, into the seat on Hermione's left. Hermione turned to stare at his slouching posture, possibly more concerned now than when she noticed the void in Dumbledore's expression. Professor Snape did not slouch.

"Let's get this over with, shall we, Headmaster?" Snape said, clearly sulking.

"Yes, let's," added Hermione, confused and a bit stunned by her normally graceful and acerbic professor's actions. She tore her gaze from the Potions Master and back to Dumbledore.

"Miss Granger, our divination professor has prophesized something we believe concerns you," began Dumbledore.

"And?" Hermione said.

"And, it wasn't good, Miss Granger," said Snape.

"What do you mean?" Hermione replied, alarmed.

"Now Severus," began Dumbledore, "don't frighten her."

"Oh, don't worry, I won't. The prophesy itself will be enough for that," growled Snape, sliding further into the cushions of his chair and leaning his forehead against his fingertips.

"Sybil, if you would, please?" Dumbledore asked. The bug-like professor blinked a few times, took a deep breath and spoke:

"On the day of the serpent's dawn  
The chief lioness will find herself entangled with  
The slippery leading asp;

Only with the fruit of their bond,  
A world divided may unite;  
And join the Phoenix on his flight."

The room sat in silence for a moment while Hermione pondered her professor's words.

"Chief lioness and a slippery asp? No offense, Professor, but I don't see how this prophecy can possibly be about me," she said, thoughtfully. She glanced at Professor McGonagall and her eyes narrowed. "Chief lioness?" She turned to look at the still disgruntled Snape and it clicked.

"You two have to have a baby!?" she gasped, shocked, looking back and forth between the two professors.

"No, Hermione," said Dumbledore gently. "You and Professor Snape must have a baby."

"What?!" screeched Hermione, attempting to rise from her seat. McGonagall restrained her gently as the teenager began to cry. "Bloody hell, no way!"

"Now, see here," began Dumbledore.

"I TOLD you she would react this way –"said Snape, standing and beginning to pace. "I am not the only one repulsed by this idea of yours, Headmaster. Sybil is a right fraud, no offense my dear. And I am not ruining Miss Granger's life and my own by -- by – mating with her and bringing a child into a world torn apart by the Dark Lord and hatred on the rantings of a mad, insect woman! Not to mention the fact that Miss Granger and I barely tolerate each other – and I swore that I would never --"

He abruptly stopped, both pacing and screaming, and once again flopped into his chair to brood.

"What, Severus?" said McGonagall, glancing at the silent and stunned student sitting beside her. She reached over to pat Hermione's hand. "Let's all discuss this rationally. Hermione, dear, to answer your earlier question, I am unable to have children of my own. Therefore, we believe the 'head lioness' in the prophecy is you, our Head Girl. Now, Severus, please finish telling us how you feel about this prophecy and our current solution. I believe Hermione needs a few more moments to acclimate, then I want her to speak."

The no-nonsense and stern brogue-tempered speech from the deputy Headmistress had a calming effect on everyone. For a moment, only Hermione and Snape's unison harsh breathing could be heard as the unlikely pair attempted to calm themselves. Finally, Snape took a deep breath and spoke:

"This information does not leave this room," he said softly. "However, I -- I had a very unhappy childhood and –"

A snort from the direction of Sybil Trelawney interrupted the quiet speech. He glared at the woman, who quickly pulled a folded, yellowing tissue from a pocket and blew her nose innocently.

"Go on, Professor Snape," said Hermione. "I appreciate whatever you will have to say."

Startled at her request, Snape simply stared at Hermione for a moment before continuing.

"My parents hated each other, and they in turn hated me," he said. "I will not bring a child into a similar relationship."

"I do not hate you, Professor," said Hermione, still clutching McGonagall's hand. "I do not like you, but I do not hate you. I do hate Voldemort, however --"

Hermione turned to Dumbledore, who was rolling the prophecy in its sphere back and forth across his desk blotter. "Professor Dumbledore, how do you know the asp in this particular prophecy is Professor Snape?"

"We don't absolutely know anything, that is unfortunately, the way of prophesies," sighed Dumbledore. "However, the timing of the prophecy is what leads us to believe that Severus, as opposed to one of your classmates or another Slytherin are the male component. 'The day of the serpent's dawn' seems to indicate the conception should ideally occur on a birthday. The prophesy was given to us last night and Severus' birthday is tomorrow. We believe you may conceive tomorrow night and somehow, the child has a role to play to help Harry defeat Voldemort."

"I suppose that makes sense," said Hermione, mentally reading through the prophesy again. She smirked after a moment's thought and snuck a glance at Professor Snape. "Happy fucking birthday, eh, Professor Snape?"

"HERMIONE!" gasped McGonagall. "Such language!"

Snape however, had only chuckled at her uncharacteristic speech. "Minerva, we're asking her to spend her NEWTS fighting morning sickness, her first year of freedom as big as a house –"

"Gee, thanks, Snape," Hermione interrupted, burying her head in her hands.

"—and the rest of her hithertofore expected to be happy life, dealing with me and a child which could easily have my disposition –"

A groan came from the curly mop of hair hiding Hermione. Dumbledore, despite his best attempts, grinned at the distraught pair.

"– and if she wants to say 'fuck' I think we should allow her a little latitude," he said. "But, if you tell anyone I said that, I will be forced to deny it."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," said Hermione, from underneath her hair.

"Indeed," replied Snape.

The group sat silently for a few moments before Snape rose and tapped his student on the shoulder. Without a word, he offered her is hand and led her from Dumbledore's office. Within minutes they arrived in his quarters, which overlooked the lake and were situated directly above the Slytherin dormitories. She walked to stare out the large windows at the lake, while he stalked to the mahogany bar in the corner and poured them both a stiff drink.

She took it without question, downing it without a sputter.

Snape was, reluctantly impressed, to say the least. He took her highball glass and accio'd the bottle of scotch for refills.

"Heavy drinker, are we, Miss Granger?"

"I'm eighteen and fighting a war, what do you think?" she retorted, sipping her new drink. "I'm not an alcoholic, if that's what you are asking. I won't drink while I'm pregnant with your – our—"

"I didn't think you would."

They both stood for a few moments, enjoying the lake view and sipping the numbing alcohol.

"God, this sucks," she said, finally.

"Yes, it does." He paused. "Miss Granger, I -- I must ask you –"

She tilted her head to look at him for a moment, chuckled at his inability to continue and the strange red hue coloring his cheeks. Instantly, she knew what he was asking.

"This is the obligatory, are you a virgin question, right? Is what is making you blush?" she asked, holding out her glass for a third.

He filled the glass to the rim and nodded, waiting.

"I'm eighteen and fighting in a war, Professor, what do you think?"

"I think that makes me feel marginally better about tomorrow."

"Good, I'm glad you do," she sniped. "Because I'm just a tad upset about it all."

"You should be." He thought for a moment. "Shall I make you a lust potion for tomorrow evening?"

Hermione turned to look at him for a moment. Her scrutiny began at the top of his head and ended somewhere mid-thigh. She grinned.

"Nah, I think I'll be okay," she said. He snickered in response. "I suppose this is the wrong time to tell you that most of the seventh years have a collective spanking fantasy?"

"Yes, it's the wrong time," he said. "And, I am not sure what to do with that particular bit of information when I have to teach my NEWTS level class on Monday."

She forced another smile.

"You're brave, Miss Granger," he said. "Or you've had too much to drink."

"False bravado brought on by acute shock, I would expect," she retorted. "And a bit of alcohol, too. I am not thrilled with being forced to have sex and reproduce with someone that I can barely tolerate, however, I must admit you are a bit better when you are in shock and drinking. This whole conversation is a tad surreal."

"Indeed."

"Indeed. Will you need a lust potion tomorrow, sir?"

"I'm pushing forty and my partner is eighteen, Miss Granger, what do you think?" he replied. She threw him a genuine smile and then sighed, turning back to contemplate the fading light outside the window.

"This sucks, doesn't it, Professor?" she said, sighing again. "How are we going to get through tomorrow, much less the next nine months?"

"You forget the next eighteen years, Miss Granger," he said, suddenly very serious. "I never expected to be a father, but I will not be a bad one, if I can help it."

"I suppose that is a comfort. Why don't we call it a night? I don't see a point to waste hours discussing something that isn't -- well, negotiable," she said.

"You are right. We are trapped by the bug woman. Perhaps if the prophesy is the incredible load of tripe that I think it is –"

"We think it is –"

"That you won't conceive and we will only have one night of horror to live through."

"Very true."

He took her glass and place them both on the bar, gesturing towards the door. As she began to leave, he grabbed her arm and turned her.

"Miss Granger – Hermione – Thank you for taking this so well. You have handled this much better than I did last night, I must confess. I will attempt to not be a greasy git during this whole ordeal."

"Thank you, Severus," she replied, a bit nervously. She leaned up and kissed him quickly on the cheek before leaving his quarters. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Good night, Hermione."

"Good night."

TBC

_Of course, it all belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling. Wish to God it were mine._

_And Love Endgame is not abandoned, I've just had a zillion years of writer's block and won't return to it for a while. I'll finish this one first and then see how it goes. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter two

The next morning, Severus Snape spent more time contemplating the curly-haired student twitching nervously at the Gryffindor table than he spent eating his breakfast. Not that it was unusual for him to pick at his food, but the stare was noticeable to his colleagues – many of whom were beside themselves with concern for the mismatched pair.

Hermione, feeling his eyes upon her, finally gave in to the urge to turn and face him. She quirked him a smile and went back to her eggs and toast. The faculty, who were wild-eyed with wonder and trying very hard to be nonchalant about observing Severus and Hermione, were mildly reassured when he simply nodded in response.

As for Snape, he couldn't decide whether the smile made him feel better or not. Before he could resume gazing at the young woman, however, an owl landed in front of his plate. The small, brown owl hopped around excitedly before Snape could untie the letter and small package from its legs. Tossing a crust of bread to the bird, he turned his attention first to the note:

_Dear Professor Snape,_

_Severus._

_Just a short note to say have a good birthday. I am sorry that it will not be a happy one. I spent most of last night thinking about our situation and I have made a decision, for myself at least. I have decided to just approach it as another assignment._

_Go ahead, say it -- I can hear the "insufferable know-it-all" phrase reverberating through your head from my seat at the Gryffindor table. Say it. See? Now, don't you feel better?_

_(Snape narrowly resisted the urge to smirk, covering the near-miss with a sip of his coffee.)_

_To that end, I have enclosed the "homework" I completed last night. It was a simple, self-assigned research project. I am sure you will recognize the text and I have marked the passages I would most like to discuss during our tutoring session this evening._

_Happy birthday, professor._

_Hermione Granger_

Confused, and a bit scared, if he were to own the truth – Snape opened the small package to reveal a reduced volume. Closer inspection revealed the book to be the Kama Sutra. His eyes darted to Hermione, who was watching him through lowered lashes, blushing. Matching her blush, he hid the volume in his palms and thumbed through it, growing redder with each marked page. Several pages depicting oral sex were marked, he noted. 'Probably because most young men wouldn't know a clitoris if one walked up and slapped them,' he thought to himself. Two other positions, which appeared perfect to play out upon his classroom desk, also had bookmarks. The second required a very flexible woman and quite a bit of strength by the man. Of course a charm could render her weightless, he mused. His eyebrow launched to the ceiling and he leaned closer to examine the text explaining the description and its picture.

"Vixen," he whispered.

"What was that, Severus?" said Albus, knowingly. "Did you get a birthday present?"

Snape's head jerked up from the moving picture he had been staring at, and he looked to his employer guiltily. Dumbledore chuckled, thinking: 'deer in the headlights look, that one. Hmm, I wonder what exactly headlights are, I must ask Arthur.'

Both men left their musings off to glance out at the Gryffindor table, where Hermione had gathered her things and was leaving in the direction of the library. Snape could see she was blushing to the roots of her hair however; she did turn at the door to throw him a nervous wink.

"It would seem," said Dumbledore, "that our lovely Miss Granger has come to terms with our little problem."

"er – yes, Headmaster, she has," stammered Snape, unable to reclaim his normally smooth, silky delivery. "I believe she has decided to see it as a challenge or a particularly difficult assignment."

The older man leaned over his shoulder and glanced at the moving picture that had entranced Snape only moments earlier. He chuckled and clapped Snape on the shoulder.

"Well, perhaps your birthday won't be so bad after all," he said. "Although, I think that particular assignment may be more of a challenge for a man of your age than an 18-year-old woman."

"I'm not old!" barked Snape, slamming the book shut and blushing yet again. Damn, he was going to have to find a potion for that before the end of the day.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, suddenly serious. "Be good to her."

"I will."

Silence reigned for a few moments while both men sipped their morning drinks.

"Headmaster?"

"mmmmmmmmmm?"

"Do you know anything about the seventh years and their—erm—"

"Oh, their little spanking fantasy?"

"You know."

"Severus, everyone knows."

"Joy."

Classes and lunch blew by swiftly, but to Snape, the hour that was dinner dragged and dragged. He had sent a note to Hermione asking her to meet and discuss her "research project" at 7 o'clock that evening. He hoped that five hours would give them enough time to fulfill their end of the prophecy – he figured at least four hours of that time would include alcohol, stalling and a lot of agony.

Hermione didn't seem to be as miserable as he was, he mused. She was digging into her dinner with gusto, a Muggle shirt and jeans peeking out from under her robes. Laughing with Potter and Weasley, she spat pumpkin juice on her plate and clothing, and had to brandish her wand to clean up – while glaring at the Boy Wonder for whatever he had said to make the juice come out her nose. Most unattractive, that, he thought. Although the jeans are a nice touch for the evening. He always did like Muggle jeans. _Armor_, he recognized suddenly, with shock. Her Muggle clothing was armor.

Somehow, that made him feel better. She wasn't as confident as her little erotic gift and her demeanor would indicate. He covertly watched the Golden Trio as he finished his meal and tapped his plate for his dessert. Hermione and the others had moved onto their desserts too, he noticed, just as Weasley swabbed a glob of frosting from his cake and launched it at Hermione.

McGonagall tutted under her breath and began to rise from the table, intent on quelling the impending food fight between her cubs. He stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Allow me, Minerva."

Quietly, he rose and moved to stand behind the frosting smeared trio and their equally messy friends. Ginny Weasley saw him first and froze in horror. Hermione winced at her expression and slowly turned to see her would-be lover hovering behind her place at the table.

"I would think that as seventh years," he snapped, "a sophomoric food fight would be beneath you."

"Yes, sir," the group said in unison.

"But, you are Gryffindors, so I suppose exceptions must be made," he finished.

The group sat silently, awaiting punishment. It came.

"Miss Granger, detention, my classroom in one hour," he said, leaning over her shoulder and sending chills up her spine as he hissed in her ear. "Don't expect to see your friends the rest of the evening."

She turned to him, unsure whether to be aroused or annoyed. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"And please find that Gryffindor has lost 15 points," he snapped, turning on his heel and striding from the Great Hall.

Hermione's eyes flashed.

"That bastard!" she exclaimed, jumping up and following him from the room.

Just as he had planned.

He grabbed her arm, dragging her into a alcove behind a tapestry, and wrestling with her briefly as she attempted to escape him. Or slap him. He didn't really care which.

"You bastard," she spat. "I don't care if you initiate a little detention scenario for tonight, in fact – I like it. But you didn't have to take away points!"

"We have more important things to worry about tonight than house points, Miss Granger," he said silkily, releasing her arms to caress her shoulders and finger her curls. She locked her gaze with his and sighed, defeated.

"You're right," she said. "And you solved my dilemma of trying to explain where I would be all night. I apologize."

"You should," he said, moving his ministrations from her shoulders to her sides and hips. He smiled as he noticed her breathing quicken. "You should apologize more, however, for that book you sent me this morning."

He leaned in to whisper into her ear. She tensed.

"I've been literally on fire all day," he said. "You, my dear, are a vixen."

She giggled and stood on tiptoe to whisper back: "I think Professor Trelawney is full of shit, Snape. I don't expect to get pregnant tonight – I checked my fertility this afternoon and I haven't ovulated yet this month. She's a fraud. So, I plan to just have fun tonight, and I want you to at least enjoy the ride."

"I plan to," he whispered, sliding his lips down her throat. "Why do you think I assigned you detention?"

"Latent detention fantasies, Professor?" she said.

"No, I just think you are sexy when you are angry."

"Bastard –" she began, before he took her parted lips under his own and finally, finally, kissed her. She shuddered as the tentative kiss turned fiery very quickly.

Just as quickly, he released her and stepped away. She looked a bit dazed and he was rather pleased – perhaps she was right, he mused. Tonight might not be so bad.

"You aren't fertile?" She shook her head in response.

"So, we meet tonight, enjoy a highly unethical and probably illegal evening of sex that will leave my old bones aching for at least a week," he said, smirking at her. "And, then we are through with the silly prophecy."

"Looks like it."

"Well, then, my dear, I will see you to complete our duty in – 45 minutes," he said, heading for the tapestry covered exit. "Good bye, Miss Granger."

"Good bye, Professor Snape."


End file.
